


Reunited

by Cat2000



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies)
Genre: Descriptions of a virus that turns suffers into zombie-like creatures, F/M, Spanking, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:19:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/pseuds/Cat2000
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Maze Runner movies and I'm not making any money from this ficSummary: A man and a woman are reunited with their son





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Spanking; violence; descriptions of a virus that turns sufferers into zombie-like creatures; AU; minor spoilers for The Maze Runner and The Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials; major spoilers for The Maze Runner: The Death Cure
> 
> Pairings: Janson/Ava; eventual Newt/Thomas
> 
> Author's Note: This is probably completely contradicting the book canon, but I'm just using the movies as a basis

She couldn't cry. She stared down at her son, waiting for the tears to come. But all she felt was numb.

 

Newt's head rested in Ava's lap. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even. He wasn't infected. But he wasn't immune, either. And she couldn't protect him. She couldn't protect _any_ of them.

 

The sound of the door sliding open drew Ava's gaze up as Janson stepped into the room. “Thomas and Minho are testing nearly off the charts!” he exclaimed, almost before the door had closed. “I can't say anything for their bloodwork. That's your department. But physically, I'd say they're both ready.”

 

Ava knew she should tell Janson that Thomas wasn't going into the maze; that he would be better placed outside, no matter how difficult it was for him...for all of them. But what came out was, “Newt isn't immune.”

 

The shock on Janson's face mirrored the shock she'd felt when she'd got the results back. He stepped slowly over to the couch and sank down on the other side of Ava. “He knows?”

 

As if, in sleep, realising he was being talked about, Newt whimpered and stretched a hand out behind him. Janson took it and the teenager relaxed back into sleep.

 

“Does he know?” Janson prompted softly, one hand smoothing over the blond hair.

 

“I don't know how to tell him.” Ava shook her head, a bitter smile curving her lips. “I should be used to giving bad news, but how can I tell our son that he wasn't born one of the lucky few? That we have no way of _protecting_ him? That unless we find a cure....”

 

“Then don't tell him.”

 

Ava stared at Janson and he met her gaze without flinching. She shook her head in disbelief. “And how do you propose we do that? Unless we keep him _completely_ isolated, he'll get exposed to the virus.”

 

“Then we put him in the maze.” Janson looked down at Newt's hand that he still held. Only the blanching of his skin indicated just how tightly he was holding onto his son.

 

Ava shook her head. “I can't do that.” She stared at him. “I can't believe you'd be willing to put him in the maze.”

 

“We don't have to.” Janson met her gaze and then looked down at Newt. “We could keep him here. Away from his friends. And if you fail to find a cure, _everyone_ will become infected. And the only ones with even a slim chance of survival and the ability to rebuild will be those kids.”

 

“The mazes are hard. Designed to push them to the limit to generate the antibodies needed to _hold the virus at bay_.” Ava kept her voice as low as possible, but there was still an edge to it that Newt apparently heard, as he gave a soft whimper in his sleep and tensed, his nose wrinkling and brow furrowing. She waited, to be certain he wouldn't wake, and then continued, in a fierce whisper, “It's going to be hard enough on all of them as it is, without introducing one who's not immune into the mix. And I wouldn't be allowed to put him in. I don't care about getting into trouble for falsifying his medical records, but he's not going to be any safer in the maze.”

 

“But maybe it'll buy him time,” Janson replied. “He doesn't have to be the only non-immune put into the maze. Will it be dangerous for him? Of course. Without a doubt. _More_ dangerous than staying here?” He looked into her eyes. “I think he stands more of a chance there.”

 

“You're going to send me into the maze?”

 

Newt's quiet voice drew Ava's attention down. She looked into her son's blue eyes and stroked his cheek. “It's the best chance you have.”

 

“So I'm immune?” He stared up at her, his eyes wide and trusting.

 

Ava couldn't lie to him. If she tried, she knew the words would catch her in her throat and he'd _know_. Why did she find it so easy to lie to other people, but when it came to her family, when it was the most important time to be dishonest, she couldn't do it?

 

“Of course.” Janson smiled and squeezed his hand. “Why would we send you into the maze if you weren't?”

 

Newt slowly sat up, his hand still in Janson's, even as he slumped against Ava's side. “I won't remember you. When you put me in the maze. I won't remember _anyone_. Will I?”

 

“If we find a cure and are able to pull you out, we can of course return your memories.” Ava wrapped her arm around Newt and held back a sigh as her son's warm, solid weight settled against her shoulder. He was really too old to sit on her lap, no matter how much she might want to pull him there.

 

“And if not?” Newt asked, his voice soft.

 

“Think of it this way,” Janson said. “If we fail, the infection will spread to _everyone_ not safe in the mazes. When you get out, you won't recognise us – and surely that's better than seeing your parents as monsters.”

 

Ava wanted to scold her husband for speaking so bluntly. He'd already given Newt false hope. A bit more couldn't hurt, surely?

 

“How long do I have with you?” Newt looked between them.

 

“You'll need to bunk with the other boys,” Ava answered. “Train and work with them. The memories will be taken from your mind, but the muscle memory will remain.”

 

“You'll still see us, but I'll be taking an active part in training you,” Janson said. He wrapped an arm around Newt's shoulders, pulling him tight against his side. “I'll make you strong. Make sure you thrive.”

 

Ava looked away, hearing what Janson wasn't saying.

 

_Make sure you survive._

 


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from The Maze Runner movies and I'm not making any money from this fic
> 
> Summary: A man and a woman are reunited with their son
> 
> Chapter Summary: Vince has some words for Thomas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): Spanking; violence; descriptions of a virus that turns sufferers into zombie-like creatures; AU; minor spoilers for The Maze Runner and The Maze Runner: The Scorch Trials; major spoilers for The Maze Runner: The Death Cure
> 
> Pairings: Janson/Ava; eventual Newt/Thomas
> 
> Author's Note: This is probably completely contradicting the book canon, but I'm just using the movies as a basis

When Thomas woke, the first thing he realised was that he didn't hurt. He'd been shot in the stomach...had been stabbed in the shoulder. And he'd been given innumerable bruises. So he should have really been in more pain than just the emotional.

 

Slumping back on the makeshift bed, Thomas tried not to think about everyone he'd lost. Teresa's death was painful enough, but if he was honest with himself, the loss of Newt was what hurt him in the worst way possible. He'd failed to save his best friend. He might have got Minho out, but it felt like he'd made a choice. Sacrificed Minho for Newt.

 

“You're awake.” Vince's voice sounded from next to his bed. “How are you feeling?”

 

Thomas rolled his head to one side, wincing at the sharp jolt in his neck that indicated he'd slept at a weird angle. He rubbed at the sore spot as he focused on Vince, sitting on a wooden stool next to the bed. “How long was I out?” he whispered, having to clear his throat to sound anything approaching human.

 

Instead of answering straight away, Vince held a rough-hewn cup to Thomas' lips, helping him to take small sips of the water inside. The liquid was warm, but Thomas was thirsty enough that he would have guzzled the entire contents if Vince hadn't kept careful control of the cup and only allowed him to take small sips at a time.

 

Finally, the water was gone and Thomas let his head drop back with a sigh. “How long?” he whispered again.

 

“You were unconscious for the entire journey here and through most of the building,” Vince said. “You lost a lot of blood. I thought I would lose you there for a while.” He reached out and gently squeezed Thomas' shoulder.

 

Thomas couldn't help it. He leaned into the touch and sighed, closing his eyes. Had he ever had someone touch him in a truly paternal way before? Without an expectation of what he or his blood could do for them? He honestly couldn't remember. And then he took note of Vince's possessive words and opened his eyes to look at the older man. “You didn't.” It was all he could think of to say. Maybe he should be offended at the possessiveness, but he wasn't. He couldn't remember _any_ adult who'd wanted him for him before.

 

Vince nodded slowly, still gently squeezing his shoulder. “When we were going to move out, with what remained of the Right Arm...with those _kids_...you let me believe you wouldn't try to go after Minho.”

 

“I agreed you were right about reaching Safe Haven with the kids,” Thomas replied. “I never said _I_ wouldn't go after him myself.”

 

Vince kept his hand on Thomas' shoulder, looking into his eyes. “You sneaked out when everyone else was asleep. You took Newt, Frypan, Jorge, Brenda....”

 

“I never _asked_ any of them to come with me,” Thomas protested. “I didn't tell _them_ I was going either.” He winced, remembering Newt attacking him. Remembered _stabbing_ his best friend. His voice lost its defensive tone as he whispered, “I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt.” He swallowed, tears beginning to well in his eyes. He hadn't truly grieved for Newt; hadn't had time to mourn Teresa's death. And he was alone with Vince right now. There was no one else around who he needed to be strong for.

 

Vince shuffled forward onto the bed and wrapped his arms tightly around Thomas.

 

Thomas began to shake, wrapping his arms tightly around Vince in return. “I could have saved my best friend,” he whispered numbly.

 

Vince didn't say anything, transferring his full weight onto the bed and shifting back so he was supported. Gripping Thomas under his arms, he pulled him across his lap.

 

Thomas let out his breath in a tiny, “Oomph,” as he landed across the man's knees, his legs and upper body supported by the bed. He lay there for an instant or two, winded; long enough for Vince to divest him of his pants underwear, yanking both down to expose his bare backside. He shivered as cold air ghosted over his naked flesh and then jumped as Vince's hand smacked down firmly on his left cheek, leaving behind a warm sting that was then repeated on his right cheek.

 

Vince didn't waste any time covering Thomas' entire backside in stinging swats down to his thighs before he started over from the top.

 

Thomas very quickly began squirming as Vince continued to steadily warm his backside and thighs. While the man probably wasn't smacking nearly as hard as he could have been, the swats were loud enough that anyone passing by outside would have no doubt about what was going on.

 

As a third circuit of swats began, Thomas' squirms became more vigorous and his legs started to kick in response to the sting. As Vince's palm began to address smacks to his sit spots and thighs, he couldn't help but throw his hand back to protect his bottom.

 

Vince didn't miss a beat as he took hold of Thomas' hand, holding it against his back and beginning to swat harder and faster.

 

Thomas let out a quiet sob, his eyes watering so much, it was nearly impossible to see. “I'm sorry, Vince!” He wasn't sure if the man was actually looking for an apology, but that was all he could think of to say to make the spanking stop.

 

If anything, Vince began swatting a bit harder and faster. And then he began to speak. “I know I'm not actually your father, Thomas, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you. You shouldn't have sneaked out without a word.”

 

Thomas began to sob. “Newt wouldn't have died,” he whispered. “I wouldn't have...lost my best friend. _It was my fault_.”

 

“It might have happened anyway,” Vince disagreed. “You wouldn't have had any more information if you'd stayed and Newt could still have been exposed anyway. It _wasn't_ your fault.”

 

Thomas' breath hitched as he listened to Vince's words. “It wasn't?” he whispered, unable to keep the hopeful note out of his voice. Was Vince telling him he didn't have to hate himself for failing Newt? He slowly curled his fingers around Vince's hand, gripping on tightly. “I'm sorry I sneaked out,” he whispered. “I'm sorry...I made you worry about me.”

 

“I'm going to worry about you, kid,” Vince answered. “Maybe I don't need to worry about you so much _now_ , but I'm still going to. I know you don't have a parent, but....”

 

Thomas held his breath, trying to slow the tears. Finally, he was able to prompt, “But...?”

 

“But I want to be your father,” Vince said, without hesitation. “I want _you_.”

 

Thomas breathed in deep and slumped over Vince's lap, tightly squeezing the man's hand. “Just...for me?” he whispered. “You want me to be your son because of _me_ , not because of what I have or I can do?” He swallowed, blinking away the tears.

 

“Just for you,” Vince agreed. “Not because you're immune or because your blood can cure the virus, but because you're _Thomas_. And I love you.”

 

“I want that,” Thomas whispered. “I want...I want to be your son,” he added, his voice firm.

 

“Good.” Vince let go of his hand, but brought Thomas up into his arms on his lap, wrapping his arms around him and hugging on tight.

 

Thomas breathed deep and hugged just as tightly, blinking back his tears. “Thank you...Dad,” he whispered, an uncertain smile tugging at his lips.

 

Vince tightened his hold. “As soon as you're ready, we'll go and join the others... _son_ ,” he said firmly.

 

“Yeah, okay.” Thomas was reluctant to pull away immediately, instead nestling in close to Vince and letting the older man comfort him. It still hurt...but the pain was getting bearable.

 


End file.
